Stronger Than I Look (Weaker Than I Think)
by YeahImThatGirl
Summary: For Felicity, Oliver might no longer leave a path of dead bodies in his wake, but apparently broken hearts were still fair game. Oliver might have won the war against Slade and his enemy might be the one locked away on Lian Yu, but it was Oliver who felt like he was serving time in Purgatory. They are all stronger than they look, but they just might be weaker than they think.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello! So while Arrow is on hiatus for the time being and I seem to have a lot of free time on my hands during the day after classes, I'm going to write. I received some really good support for a little one-shot I did called "Far Worse Than Death" regarding the season finale, so this full length story will investigate the ramifications of the finale—and honestly, although I know how it starts, I have no idea how it will end, so feel free to provide any input you wish! I do know that I want to focus on Oliver and Felicity (of course) but also, in a smaller sense, Roy and Thea and maybe even Diggle and Lyla. Enjoy lovely readers!

* * *

_"You don't have to outsmart him—just let him outsmart you,"_

The plan had been simple and it had started to form the moment he had seen the trust in her eyes. She trusted him not to kill, she trusted him to save Laurel, she trusted him to save the city.

She should have never trusted him with _her._

When he had tugged her into the abandoned Queen mansion, he had almost turned back, thinking it was a mistake, but he knew that just the simple act of leaving her there, leaving her out of the battle, would draw Slade's attention.

And she just wouldn't _stay put._

So he did the one thing he had sworn he would never do—used Felicity Smoak against herself.

Then, on the island, when she had mumbled through a very one-sided conversation about the incident, he had stood there, near-wordlessly, like the ass he was. He watched her blush and stutter and stammer and he had never wished more that he could be capable of loving someone.

He didn't understand that—if he had won, if Slade Wilson was safely locked away on Lian Yu—why he felt like he was the one walking through Purgatory.

Oliver paced the cluttered floor of the foundry trying to push aside overturned tables and destroyed computers. He knew he had a mess to clean up and that it was more than the tangible.

He pulled out his cell phone, his thumb hovering over Felicity's number, when the screen lit up with Laurel's face. He considered ignoring it.

"Hello," he answered gruffly. Sometimes, the past was hard to change.

"Ollie," she sobbed into his ear, causing him to stand straighter. "It's dad," she whispered.

He hung up, grabbing his keys as he headed for Starling General, telling himself that he would call Felicity later.

Life was full of choices, and sometimes, without realizing it, people made the wrong ones.

* * *

"Slade wants to kill the woman I love," Oliver's words swirled in Felicity's brain until they blurred before her eyes, as if she were reading them on the screen of one of her computers.

"I know, so?" she challenged, anxious to prove that she didn't want to be _safe,_ she wanted to be _useful._

"So he took the wrong one," Oliver stated clearly. Felicity knew what was coming. She tried to scream. She tried to back away, to run, to escape. It was futile, of course, no one could escape a nightmare, especially when, for over a year, you had dreamed for this moment nearly every night.

"I love you," he whispered.

She sat up in bed, gasping for breath, clutching her chest trying to fill the empty hole where, once, her heart had been.

She had been captured, a sharp blade had been held to her threat, her life had been physically threatened and yet she was having nightmares about the moment her heart shattered.

Oliver Queen might no longer leave a path of dead bodies in his wake, but apparently broken hearts were still fair game.

* * *

Roy sat on his bed, phone in hand, telling himself that she would call. Thea had nowhere to go, no one to run to, and most importantly, he _needed_ her.

He had been officially cured of the Mirakuru for several days now, but that didn't seem to cure the rage that coursed through his body, flowing through his arms as his hand connected with the wall.

He redialed her number, cursing under his breath when it went straight to voicemail. He should have never left that night. He had been trying to prove himself, right his wrong. If Roy hadn't went crazy and nearly killed her, if Slade hadn't used his blood to make that army, he and Thea could have been half way to happiness by now.

But Roy knew that was a lie, just like he knew that he had lied to her before he had left—just like she had lied when he had asked if something had happened to her. They had both nodded, pretending that lies would be enough to block out the destruction underneath. People say that no one willingly believes a lie—that the truth will set you free. Bull shit. Lies are easier to swallow and the easiest person to lie to is yourself.

Thea cried out as the bamboo came down across her arms, knocking her weapon from her grasp as she fell to the ground.

"Up!" someone shouted at her.

"Yes, teacher," she mumbled incoherently. She hadn't slept in days and she was almost certain that her left wrist was broken. Sharp pain cracked across it as the bamboo came down across the break.

"I am not your teacher," the man shoved her to the wall, outweighing her and nearly crushing her, his arm to her throat. If she could have breathed, she would have begged him to end it. "I am not you're teacher," he repeated. "I am your enemy—and trust me, that is the best teacher you will ever have," he grinned a bloody grin at her and she was reminded of the one good hit she had gotten across his face—probably breaking his nose—a weakness.

As he backed away, she brought her fist up, smashing it into his already broken cartilage, cringing at the sound.

This is what strength felt like. She was broken and bloodied and tired and she felt near death, but she had learned that strength, true strength, wasn't she had thought it was—it was who you were when you least expected it, when left with no other options.

The desperate, she had learned, succeeded because they were left with no other choice.


	2. Chapter 2

She sat hunched over her computers, furiously typing, trying to ignore the painful ache that had developed in her shoulders and had spread throughout her back. Felicity welcomed the slight pain; it reminded her that she was still breathing.

"You still haven't found anything?" Laurel clicked a pen repeatedly, standing over Felicity's shoulder, while Felicity tried not to appear annoyed.

"About what exactly? Finding Thea, getting Oliver back his company, or about the latest stream of weapons that seem to have found their way into the city? These things take—"

"Time, I know," Laurel finished for her, rolling her eyes. "I guess I won't rush brilliance," with that the brunette turned and let herself out.

Felicity stood, shoving away from her desk with an exasperated sigh. Diggle arched an eyebrow from the corner, but other than that remained impassive.

"She needs someone right now, with everything going on with her dad," Oliver whispered behind her.

She spun on him, not hearing his approach. For one moment she allowed herself to drink him in—to catch the small changes in his appearance that had occurred since the last time she had seen him.

But never once did she allow the wall she had been building around her heart break.

She wanted to scream at him, to shout: _Don't I need someone? Didn't I need someone?_ Oliver had always been so careful with her safety yet he had been willing to risk it to save his beautiful Laurel, to defeat his most dangerous enemy.

Yet she didn't say any of these things, she simply turned back to her computers.

"There's no trace on Thea—which means she didn't get out of Starling alone," Felicity explained. Ever since Roy had told Oliver that Thea had come to him the night that Starling's war had been won, the two men had been looking for her relentlessly.

"How do you know that; she can be resourceful," Oliver argued.

"She can be—but no one is that good unless they've gone off the grid before," she looked at him pointedly.

"Ok so where do we start?" he asked, bouncing his hand off of his thigh—a nervous habit that Felicity had noticed.

"Nowhere—I'm running facial rec and if her name, passport, or credit cards get used anywhere on the globe, we'll know about it, but for right now, if she doesn't want to be found—and if she has someone who's willing to make that happen—we won't find her," she said, shrugging her shoulders as if she hadn't just dealt Oliver a painful blow.

"Oh," he said simply.

"And what of Queen Consolidated?" Laurel's heels clicked back down the steps of the foundry as she spoke. Dig smirked when Felicity shot him an irritated glance.

"Several of the board members have been replaced; they were uh-killed, by Slade's army," she muttered, speaking only to Oliver. "Overall they seem embarrassed to have appointed Isabel to CEO after her involvement with Slade was released; however, they don't seem too apt to elect you back," she rushed out, trying to soften the blow.

"Oh," Oliver stated slowly.

"The good news is, you still own the majority share of stocks—so you do have some leverage. Not to mention your name _is_ still on the building…" she stammered out.

"Oh," Oliver repeated.

"You have an appointment with the board at 10:00 tomorrow morning," Felicity said, rolling her eyes. The man could hunt down criminals and take down the inhuman, but heaven forbid he do something normal—like run a company.

"You'll go," Oliver stated. He meant it as a question, she was sure, but he said it as if a command.

"Oliver—"

"Please?" he whispered, his fingers brushing her shoulder in that familiar way. This time, though she jumped back from his touch as if he had scalded her. The pain on his face was evident, but she nodded her head in agreement nonetheless.

"Ollie, you said that you'd go back to the hospital with me," Laurel stood beside him, drawing his attention.

"Of course," he answered, but Felicity noticed that as he walked away, his gaze turned back to her one last time.

And this was the problem. Felicity would always be losing him to someone else.

Or perhaps the problem went deeper. The day that she had told him the truth about Thea, about his mother, she had told him that she had feared she would lose him—and he had sworn she never would. Perhaps the problem was he had never been hers to lose.

* * *

Oliver pulled up to the hospital entrance just as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to see Roy's number and took the call, ignoring the look on Laurel's face.

"I know who Thea left with," Roy jumbled out, speaking so fast it took a moment for Oliver to decipher his words.

"Roy, are you sure? Because we aren't sure—"

"Malcolm Merlyn," Roy interrupted.

Oliver looked at the phone, reassuring himself that it was, in fact, Roy, and not a prank phone call.

"Roy, where are you? I'm coming to get you," Oliver shot Laurel a semi-apologetic look as she shut the car door and walked to the hospital alone. "Merlyn is dead—"

"He's not. Sin saw him get Thea out of the train station and—"

"Roy," Oliver interrupted again, trying to calm the kid down. "Breath, I'm coming to get you."

Oliver hung up, but quickly redialed another number.

"Oliver?" Felicity's voice on the other side of the phone calmed the ball of nerves that had formed in Oliver's gut.

"I need you to track Roy's phone and then come with me to pick him up," Oliver explained as he sped towards the foundry.

"Is he in trouble?" the panic in her voice was evident; she and Roy had grown close.

"No," Oliver hesitated, debating on how much to explain. "I'll tell you more when I pick you up," and with that he hung up.

When he pulled up, Felicity was ready and waiting, tablet in hand. She put herself in the passenger seat, carefully buckling her seat belt; Oliver couldn't help but notice the still-fresh wound on her head from their car crash.

"He thinks Malcolm Merlyn took Thea—no that Thea _left_ with Malcolm Merlyn," Oliver whispered as she sped deeper into the Glades. She stilled for one moment before she spoke.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time someone you thought you had killed came back from the dead," she muttered.

He shot her a look but didn't question her statement—it was too accurate.

They rode in silence, Felicity occasionally providing directions. When they spotted Roy's red hoodie, Felicity jumped out of the car, chasing after him.

They talked animatedly for a moment until Roy finally followed her back to the car.

"I'm going to look into it," she was promising him as she crawled in the back seat.

Roy shook his head, obviously placated.

When they made it back to the foundry, Felicity turned to leave, apparently calling it a night, but Roy took her arm, stopping her; Oliver couldn't help but notice that Roy's touch didn't faze her as his had earlier.

"I miss her," Roy's voice broke on the end and Felicity's eyes softened; Oliver hadn't realized how rugged she had been looking until he saw how yielding she looked in that moment.

"I know," she sighed, pulling Roy into her for a hug. He kissed her gently on the forehead before turning back for the foundry.

Oliver watched as she walked away and couldn't help himself when he made a move to stop her.

"Felicity, wait!" he grabbed her elbow, turning her to him, not bothering to release her when she flinched away at his touch. A part of him that he didn't know existed wilted slightly when he saw her usually bright blue eyes dull.

"Oliver," she stated simply.

"I don't want to be like this; I need you to forgive me," he plead. He knew that Felicity would forgive him; she had forgiven him for far worse—murder, lies, assault—she could forgive him of this.

"There's nothing to forgive Oliver," she whispered in a quiet voice.

"Then why are we like this?" his voice broke on the last word and for one moment her eyes flashed to his and he saw his Felicity, somewhere, looking back at him, then she disappeared back within herself.

"There's nothing to forgive," she repeated. "You did what you had to do," she shrugged, as if what he had done, what he had said were of little importance.

"We aren't us," he whispered, his fingers brushing over her high cheek bones.

"There never was an 'us,'" she shot back, flinching from his grasp. "I can forgive you, Oliver, but that doesn't mean I can forget," she answered sharply, and with that she turned and walked towards her car.

He missed her. He remembered Roy's words from earlier and he realized that they applied to this situation. Someone didn't have to be lost to be missed and perhaps it was worse when they were right there before you, yet one terrible moment, one bad decision, away.


	3. Chapter 3

Roy had never felt so helpless. He had thrown everything he had into training against Dig and when he could easily fight against him, Oliver finally conceded to spar.

They stood opposite each other, moving in a near-graceful motion—if two grown men practicing to incapacitate someone could ever be considered graceful. When Roy thought of grace, he thought of Thea, and her ability to walk in shoes that defied the laws of gravity.

A sharp pain shot across his face as a short stick of bamboo left its mark. Roy no longer had the ultra-healing effects of the Mirakuru, but he had something equally effective—the numbness that resulted from a shattered heart.

"You're thinking about her!" Oliver shouted through gritted teeth.

"So you're telling me that when you went to rescue Laurel from Deathstroke you were able to focus on more than the gooney who had his gun pressed to her temple?" he questioned in a near-whisper. Oliver straightened with a jerk and Roy used his distraction to take him down at the knees, quickly stepping behind the man and bringing the bamboo stick to rest against the side of his throat, intentionally recreating a scene that he knew Oliver hated to relive.

The scene where Oliver realized he had lost everything, even if it were still standing—breathing—right in front of him.

Oliver, though, was still the better fighter. He threw his weight into Roy and tossed him easily over his shoulder; Roy landed against the hard floor of the foundry, the air painfully expelled from his lungs.

"Not Laurel," Oliver muttered, tossing his bamboo stick onto Roy's chest as he sulked away, upset.

Roy watched him go, knowing completely what he meant by those two words. Felicity hadn't told anyone what had happened when Slade had taken her, but he had seen the small cuts on her neck from the blade and the bruises on her arms where his hands had held her.

Roy also understood that, although Oliver was too stupid and stubborn to admit it, he probably hadn't even really noticed Laurel—not the way that Felicity's face was no doubt burned into his mind.

He shook his head and walked towards the blonde sitting behind her desk, studiously avoiding everyone in the room but her precious IT-babies. She was looking up topographical maps of different regions of South East Asia, no doubt trying to help find Thea—Felicity was the only one who believed that Malcolm Merlyn might still be alive, yet alone behind Thea's disappearance.

He carefully sat a hand against the back of her neck, his warm, rugged fingers easily spanning the width of her cool, pale skin. She flinched, at first, but when he didn't remove it she settled into the touch, knowing without turning around exactly who it was.

They were unlikely friends. The ghetto rat and the It-genius, the enraged crime fighter and the MIT graduate. But they were united on one front.

Loss—and all the heartbreak it entailed.

Roy knew that after whatever Oliver had done to finally break Felicity, she hadn't just sulked and punched things as he had—she had shut herself down. His heart had shattered, but hers had disappeared, and that was by far worse.

Perhaps it was _because_ his heart was shattered that giving her pieces to borrow until she felt the need to dust hers off was easy. Really, though, it had never been a choice at all.

* * *

Oliver watched Felicity fidget in the elevator on their way to the top level of Queen Consolidated. She was obviously uncomfortable and for some reason she wasn't telling him why.

It scared him.

The last time she had hid something from him, he had concocted a million reasons why, each one far worse than the previous. At first, he thought that she was leaving—that someone had offered her a better position, something in IT, and she had taken it. Then she thought that someone had threatened her and she was too afraid to tell him and he had vowed then that he would shed blood for this woman. Then finally, when she had looked into his eyes and started babbling about her family, the heart he didn't even think existed any longer thudded once in his chest at the obvious pain in her voice. He had wanted to pull her aside and take her away, away from it all, but that was the moment everything had started to fall apart.

But he had never once blamed Felicity, if anything, he had only counted on her more.

When they stepped out of the elevator, he had every intention of telling her all of this—of laying everything he needed to say, should have said, out in the open right on the marble floor of what used to be his company—because what else did he have to lose?

"Felicity?" he asked, grabbing her elbow and spinning her towards him.

"Felicity?" another deep voice echoed his question and he spun at the sound, not because someone else was saying her name, but because they said her name the way he said it, holding the weight of all of the words he wished he didn't have to leave unspoken.

"Ed?" she breathed, stepping around Oliver as if he weren't even there. "I had read that you were appointed to the board, but I didn't think it could possibly be true—you'd never leave Coast City and—"

"You still ramble I see," he smirked at her, his hand lightly brushing the small of her back as he walked them towards the board room. "I knew you were working here, but last I checked you were working in the IT department?" he quirked a brow, the question evident as to why she was attending a board meeting that would decide the CEO's fate.

"I was!" she exclaimed excitedly and Oliver felt the familiar pang of guilt that he had felt many times since pulling her from the basement of IT. "But well, it's kind of complicated and well-uh, I…" she stammered, trying to explain, and Oliver stepped in, pasting on his best CEO smile.

"Oliver Queen," he said easily. He knew what the name meant and the effect it had on people. "Felicity happens to be my Executive Assistant as well as my most trusted friend," Oliver shot the man a look that told him easily to back the hell off.

"Surely she's been doing something besides playing secretary; you haven't been CEO for nearly two months," the man commented, a smirk on his face for Oliver, but he was clearly focusing on Felicity.

She blushed, of course, and jumbled more words, rambling about trying to find something, but with the second destruction of the city it hadn't been easy.

"My company—"

"She still works for me," Oliver interrupted before this pompous ass could make Felicity an offer that might steal her away from him. "And I do believe that after this meeting you'll feel confident in my abilities to regain control of this, _my_, company," Oliver glared at him, daring the man to challenge his claim.

"Then let's get started shall we," the man gestured for everyone to take a seat and Oliver and Felicity began their presentation.

He discussed financial jargon that his lawyers had prepared for him—and that he honestly didn't understand—fortunately, it looked that many of the board didn't understand it either. Then he and Felicity further discussed the plans for moving forward as well as new investment projects now that Starling yet again needed to be rebuilt. They closed with a kick in the ass that it had been the board that had hired Isabel Rochev in the first place and Oliver would have given anything to know Felicity's true thoughts on that matter—she had never liked that woman.

Felicity gathered his things and he bent to help her. They made their way out of the room and she heaved a sigh of relief.

"That went well," she breathed.

"Who is he?" Oliver asked, trying to sound casual.

She shot him a dirty look, but didn't respond.

"Felicity, he's magically just shown up on the board of my business and you happen to know him—"

"So you don't trust him or you don't trust _me?_" she stood straighter, walking right up to him until they were nearly touching. Oliver hadn't been this close to her without her flinching since—

"I trust you explicitly," he said without hesitation. Because it was true. He would easily put his life in Felicity's hands and not think twice. "Him, on the other hand," he jabbed his finger over his shoulder just as the door opened.

"Edward Raymond, Mr. Queen," he smirked as he walked out of the room. "You did quite well in there, the two of you, quite a team," he looked between the two of them and something in Oliver's gut told him that the man was not to be trusted. "The board will have a decision by tonight and we shall reach you then Mr. Queen, although it does seem you have them won over," he said easily. Oliver recognized it as the easy tone of businessman—someone quick to lie and even quicker to gamble.

"Thank you Mr. Raymond," Oliver replied with equal ease. He turned to go, but stopped when he realized that Felicity was not with him. He tensed when he saw her smiling at the man.

"Felicity," he murmured. "I'm in town until the end of the weekend on business; please, give me a call and let's get together for dinner," he squeezed her hand as he put his card in her palm.

They walked silently to the elevator and when they stepped in Oliver couldn't hold it any longer.

"How do you know him?"

"MIT," she answered simply.

"Who is he?" he asked again, realizing he sounded like an Inquisitor and also realizing he didn't care.

"Edward Raymond," Felicity said as she rolled her eyes.

Oliver ground his teeth, resigning himself to having Dig run an ARGUS background check on the guy.

"Don't even think about it," Felicity hissed beside him. For one moment he wondered if he had said the words aloud and then he realized that Felicity just knew him—and that he had done the same thing to Barry Allen. "No background checks, no threats from the night time vigilante, no evil glares in the office, and no stalking me to find out how I spend my evenings!" she was shouting by the end and although Oliver felt bad he had upset her, he was slightly relieved that she was showing some form of life.

"I don't have to find out how you're spending your evenings," he conceded and he smiled a true smile at the relief that crossed her features, but he also smiled at the sheer horror that would have crossed her features if he told her that he knew exactly where she spent her evenings, because she generally spent her evenings with him.

* * *

Felicity stormed into the foundry and she only slowed when Dig and Roy looked up from training with a startled expression.

"Everything ok?" John asked carefully.

"Whatever Oliver tells you, NO background checks on an Edward Raymond, understand!?" she pointed her finger at him. "He might threaten you with arrows, but remember, I'm the bitch with wifi!"

She stormed towards her computers and sighed when they purred under her touch. Then she gasped at the face that appeared on her screen.

"Roy!" she shouted, knowing Dig would follow. She double checked the print outs, once, twice, and even a third time even though she knew that a computer couldn't lie.

"What is it?" he asked cautiously, no doubt aware of her mood.

She simply pointed at the screen.

It wasn't Thea. But her green eyes stared back at the camera, as if mocking the viewers on the other side.

"Holy shit he's alive," Roy gasped. Felicity shot him a look and he explained. "I mean, I didn't send you on a wild goose chase, but come on! But Sin was right!"

"Sin was right about what?" Oliver asked as he bounced down the stairs, still in suit and tie.

"Look," Felicity said, unsure of how Oliver would react.

He didn't, and that was almost worst. He stared at the monitor, unblinking, as if it would disappear if he so much as moved.

"This doesn't mean that Merlyn has Thea," he finally whispered.

"Come on Oliver," Felicity murmured, feeling pity on the man. "You didn't want to believe that Malcolm was alive, but now you know he is. There's no reason to believe that he wouldn't come back for his only child."

Oliver simply nodded as he sat back in Felicity's office chair. Roy on the other hand was pacing like a mad man.

"We have to go get her, we have to get her back," he was gesturing wildly with his hands.

"We can't take on the men that Malcolm has no doubt gathered," Oliver argued. "She's going to have to come home on her own," he sighed, running his hands through his hair. For one moment, Felicity was surprised as to how easily Oliver had given up on his little sister, then she saw the calculating look in his eyes and she realized that he wasn't giving up, he was simply regrouping.

"What if she doesn't!" Roy shouted. "How do you _know!"_ he was nearly screaming and Felicity tried to approach him, but he only backed away, like a caged animal.

"Because I did," Oliver sighed.

Felicity watched Oliver leave and shortly after him Roy followed, red hoodie in his hands. John touched her shoulder, saying something about going home to Lyla.

When she was completely alone, she put her head into her hands and she allowed herself to cry. She cried for Oliver, the boy before the island and the man who had broken her heart. She cried for Roy, whose heart had been split in two, across thousands of miles. She cried for John who, although he was too private to share with the group, was carrying a weight that everyone noticed but no one asked about.

And finally she cried for herself. She cried for the heart that she thought she was missing, but obviously that wasn't the case, because surely her chest wouldn't ache so badly if it were empty.

* * *

"Leave her, your time with her is done," Merlyn stood over her and Thea almost smiled, she was almost _grateful_ that this man had come back for her. Surely the devil that she knew was better than the devil that she didn't.

She stood, although it was painful; she had learned over the past days, weeks, months—however long it had been since she had been dropped into hell—that pain was relative and that it thrived on whatever your mind fed it.

"Are you ready to fight?" Merlyn asked her. He had asked her continually to address him as father and although she did it aloud to avoid punishment, mentally, her mind was her own.

"I'm ready to survive," she replied. He handed her his sword and she took it easily. It was weighted differently than the weapons they used to train with but she cared it nonetheless.

When she had tried to shoot him in the subway terminal he had called her a killer, told her that that was what had differentiated her from Tommy. When she had first come to this island and had been told what she would have to do she bulked.

Then she realized that she hadn't pulled that trigger to kill her father. It was survival. She knew that Merlyn would eventually be her undoing and although she hadn't been trained well enough then to know to shoot for his head, she hadn't meant to end his life, simply prolong her own.

They stepped into the sun and she took a breath. All this time she had been training underground. She had assumed that Merlyn feared she would flee, but she had heard others speak of the island and she knew that she couldn't escape. She looked around and saw men, mostly, training against each other in ways far more brutal than she had been prepared for.

"These men," she asked quietly. "They follow you?" she knew that he had been disavowed from the League for his actions in the Undertaking, he had tried to explain those actions and they had only further motivated her revenge.

"I lead them," he said simply, as if there were a difference, and, she guessed, there was—it depended on if you were doing the following or the leading.

She looked at Merlyn. She would not kill him, just as she hadn't considered it killing him in the train terminal.

She would simply survive.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support on this story! I'm so glad that everyone is enjoying it so early! Some background: Felicity Smoak is from a different comic and she's married to a guy named Edward Raymond so that is where his character is loosely coming from in case anyone is interested. Also, I'm going to try and further develop Thea's character, mainly because I really like her! Thanks again for all of the love and continue to let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Felicity watched Oliver as he suited up for the night and not for the first time seriously considered canceling her date. She hadn't missed a night with him since they had started spending their nights together.

_3, 2, 1, that sounded wrong, even in her head._

"You're sure you have to go?" he asked, walking up to her with his hood pulled low over his eyes.

"Yes, I can't just call Edward and tell him, 'Sorry, I have to cancel, but there's a bunch of criminals on the loose and do IT for the Arrow,'" she smirked at him as she saw a genuine smile fill the darkness around his face.

"And you're sure that this is all set up to work?" he looked at her and she knew he was trying to push her buttons; of course it would work.

"All Dig has to do is follow the very short list of instructions I gave him," she smiled sickeningly sweet at him, not allowing him to get to her tonight.

She turned and walked towards Dig, taking the list in her hand, pretending to look it over carefully.

"So you're letting the kids have their own fun tonight?" she asked casually, eyebrow raised.

"I'm getting to old for this," he muttered noncommittally.

"Mhm," she mumbled, bending closer to him, acting like she was showing him something on the screens. "I know Lyla is pregnant," she whispered conspiratorially.

Dig reared back from Felicity as if she had slapped him and for one moment she thought she had guessed wrong. Then the wild look in his eyes confirmed her suspicions.

"How did you know?" his eyes narrowed as they focused on hers.

"Because you would never remove yourself from this mission for you and Lyla would never ask you to for her—but for a baby—well that changes everything," Felicity shrugged as if the answer had been obvious all along.

Dig looked at her with a sense of awe written all over his face.

She gave him a wink and let him sit back down to her computers. Her phone chirped and she didn't even bother to look at it; she knew she was running late to meet Edward so she waved to Roy as he proudly placed his new mask and then she pretended not to search for Oliver as she headed up the stairs.

"Felicity," his voice sounded behind her and she spun. He was smiling but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Be careful," he nearly whispered.

"I always am," she said simply, saying the words that he always told her when she asked the same thing.

"Come back to me," he pled, yet again using her words against her.

"I always do," she shrugged, yet again reversing his words.

She turned on her heel and just as her finger touched the door knob his voice filled the space again, slightly louder.

"I'll miss being inside you tonight," she whirled on him, eyes wide as saucers as he continued. He held his hands up, a picture of innocence. "And by you I mean your ear and by me I mean my voice," he said, softer than before. She huffed and threw the door open, stepping out into the fading sun.

She slammed the door behind her, hearing the locks slide back into place, nearly falling into the arms of one very startled Edward Raymond.

"What the—" she gasped out, catching herself on his arms.

"Felicity," he said easily, regaining his composure. "I came to pick you up for dinner," he smiled down at her easily, but something in Felicity bristled as she stepped out of his grasp.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked quickly, then shut her eyes, realizing she sounded paranoid.

"Well, Oliver's taken the club back over since Thea's vacation, has he not?" he answered coyly, but Felicity realized that he still hadn't answered her question.

"But how did you know that _I_ would be here," she asked again.

"You're Oliver's EA, you handle his business affairs," Edward explained simply, as if he were explaining to a child.

"Yes, for Queen Consolidated, but Verdant is his own problem," she argued petulantly, then she saw something flash across Edward's face—the same look that he had worn before he went in for the kill during a debate all of those years ago—and she realized her mistake.

"Then why _were_ you here Felicity?" he looked down at her and he had the audacity to look slightly hurt. Felicity took a deep breath before responding.

"Thea left without much notice; I was helping get some things in order for—tonight," she finished dryly. "Let's just go to dinner," she sighed. She allowed him to escort her towards his car as they both sat in the back. He motioned for the driver to take them to whatever restaurant he had picked out for the evening, but Felicity's mind was scattered on the parking lot Verdant.

Oliver had been right, something was suspicious about Edward Raymond. Or perhaps she was just out of practice when it came to people skills—working with Dig and Oliver didn't require much.

Damn Oliver Queen and his paranoia.

* * *

Thea danced in a circle around the man who had six inches and at least one hundred pounds on her. She let out an almost wicked shriek as she lunged for his throat. When the cold steel of her blade rested against the man's carotid artery, his eyes closed, anticipating the final blow, but instead, she stepped away.

"End him!" Merlyn shouted from behind her. Instead she stood, her back turned to the archer as she allowed her opponent to stand. She looked at him with a look she had developed over the course of many fights—a look that spoke more than any words could—mixed with mercy, justice, and most importantly, strength.

Then she turned her back on the man and walked away.

"Thea," Malcolm grabbed her arm painfully and yanked her towards him. "They will not take you seriously if you cannot defeat them in battle."

"What good is defeat if they're dead—the best defeat is a remembered loss," she nearly whispered.

"Nonsense," he spoke harshly. She looked him carefully in the eyes before she spoke; she was much shorter than the man who was her father, but she could see that he had begun to fear her, just as everyone in the camp had.

"You think that allowing them to live is sign of my weakness, yet my strength is shown when in my judgment—I'm strong enough to kill them and stronger still because I choose not to," with that she walked away from her father.

She had learned quickly. Over a year of throwing wine boxes at the club and breaking up fights had strengthened her physically more than she had realized and all that she had endured for the past 6 years had strengthened her mentally.

Thea looked down at the weapons before her and let her hands gloss over the arrows and the bow that Malcolm had wanted her to learn. She couldn't pick them up without feeling sick—for Roy, for home, and for some reason, Oliver. She hated using the blade because when she held it, she pictured her mother and Slade, as she wept on the side, unable to fight back—but that had ultimately been the determining factor—she refused to let Slade Wilson win.

She heard someone approaching behind her and her hand froze on her blade. She did not kill, but when the choice had to be made, she would always choose her. The sound of air being displaced behind her warned her of the loosed arrow and she sidestepped, rolling to the ground as he readied another. The man from the fight earlier loomed over her.

"You're quick Speedy," he grinned when she flinched at the name.

"Quick enough," she grunted as she climbed to her feet, ready for a fight.

"We don't want to fight," he gestured to a group of men, all wearing black, as they stepped out from the brushes of the island. "We want a way off this island—and you're going to give it to us," he grinned wider when she straightened out of her stance, a smirk on her face.

"My enemy's enemy," she muttered as she led them deeper into the forest.

* * *

Oliver was surprised when Felicity's voice filled his ear. In fact he was so surprised, he stopped walking and Roy ran into his back with a startled expression.

"He took me home early," she explained casually, although Oliver could almost hear the hurt in her voice. He might not like Edward Raymond, but if Felicity did, Oliver would learn to abide the man—or at least find a way to not kill him.

"Roy and I are just about to the docks," Oliver whispered as they approached. He motioned for Roy to wait and then signaled for them each to take a side.

There were several men dressed completely in black gear and from the sounds of it they were arguing over a fairly large arms trade. Oliver and Roy shot off dual exploding arrows that caused sparks large enough to mask their entrance as well as confuse the men, but by the time they reached the boxes of weapons the men had seemingly disappeared.

Oliver ripped the crate open and stared at the writing on the lid. It wasn't in English, but still in a language familiar enough to Oliver.

_"The Dark Archer sends his regards,"_ it read. Roy looked at him with confusion, but at that moment the first bullet flew past Oliver's temple. He could hear Felicity's voice screaming in his ear and although it was loud and slightly annoying, he couldn't bring himself to remove it.

"Get down!" he shouted to Roy. Roy shot Oliver one last glance before diving behind the crates. Whoever it was wasn't after Roy. Oliver motioned for him to jump the retaining wall and make it into the ocean below.

Oliver glanced around quickly and that was when he saw it—the red glare of light that could only be one thing: Deadshot.

Oliver looked around and then shot several arrows in different directions, smoke billowing from their targets, before he followed Roy into the ocean.

It was further down than he had expected and he tried to focus on finding Roy, who bobbed several yards away, pointing at a van waiting for them nearby, flashing its lights in classic Diggle fashion.

Dig hauled them out of the water with Felicity waiting in the van. She threw the side door open and flung herself on him, not seeming to notice that he was dripping water and completely soaking her dress.

"Felicity," he murmured against her hair.

"Oliver Queen, you idiot!" she shouted at him, smacking him against the shoulder causing water to fly off them both. "He could have killed you! I shouldn't have left tonight, I would have _known_ that the place was a trap and—"

"Felicity," he muttered again, this time pulling her into him despite her struggles. Finally her arms wrapped around him as she breathed a sigh of relief. "Deadshot never misses," he looked at Dig as he felt Felicity tense and then pull away from his embrace.

"Then it's a good thing he did tonight," she muttered. "Deadshot? Really?" she asked, looking between Dig and Oliver.

"It was a warning—he missed on purpose," Diggle explained. "Because he _doesn't_ miss."

"Then what is Deadshot—and more importantly the Squad he works for—doing with Merlyn?" Oliver questioned.

"Well, I hate to state the obvious," Roy interrupted. "But whatever it is, it can't be good—and it involves Thea."

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for all of the favorites/follows/reviews because they are golden!


	5. Chapter 5

Roy paced the floor of the foundry trying to ignore Felicity's concerned glances. He had never had siblings and his mother wasn't worth two shits so he had started to think of Felicity as those two roles combined. It was comforting most of the time, but right now it was annoying.

"Felicity," he warned.

"What?" she threw her hands in the air trying to look as innocent as possible—which wasn't difficult.

Roy rolled his eyes and pounced on Felicity's computer when the sound warned everyone that whatever scan she had been running finished.

"Roy, do you know what you're doing?" she asked casually behind him, tapping her nails against her coffee mug impatiently. He huffed as he stepped away, allowing her access to her chair.

"Did you hack into ARGUS?" Oliver was suddenly beside them and full of nervous energy. Roy had noticed that if the man wasn't actively doing something with his hands he radiated with tension no matter the situation.

"First," Felicity started. "We've discussing that 'hack' is such a dirty word—well not dirty as in sexy dirty, just not well—yeah, you know," she turned back to her monitors to hide the red rising in her cheeks while Oliver pretended not to notice. This dance around each that they had been doing was getting on everyone's nerves. "Secondly, it seems that the protocols I had in place before aren't quite up to speed," she muttered under her breath as her fingers flew over the keys.

Roy and Oliver looked at each other in pure confusion, shrugging their shoulders simultaneously.

"Got it!" Felicity shouted, making the two trained men jump. She smirked at them both before continuing. "Amanda Waller has some things she doesn't want anyone to know about—as in no data traces whatsoever. My guess is there's a literal paper trail somewhere around her office because believe it or not it's safer than storing it on a hard drive."

"After watching you at work, I'd believe it," Oliver muttered. "So what do we do?" he asked, looking at her.

"Well, from what I can find on ARGUS' servers, the Suicide Squad is connected to Malcolm—how? I can't say. But I guarantee Malcolm wouldn't make that kind of arrangement without some kind of deal on his part and Waller wouldn't let that deal go down without insurance on her end."

"So we break into ARGUS," Oliver stated easily, looking to Dig in the corner. Roy hadn't noticed before, but the man had been surprising quiet throughout the whole conversation. "We can have Lyla lead us to the papers we need—"

"No," Dig was already standing and Roy wasn't sure, but judging from the look on the man's face, not even the Arrow was winning this fight. "You're going to have to win this without Lyla," he added, trying to sound softer.

"I'll go," Felicity jumped up, grabbing her tablet, but not before exchanging a quick glance with Dig. Roy would have to ask her what that was about later. She hadn't even taken a step before Oliver had stopped her and spun her around, a look of dread and anger distorting his features.

"Absolutely not!" he roared.

"Oliver, you're going to need someone to override the system codes and I can't do it from here—no one is that good. I can connect directly to the security boxes and use a brute force attack on their firewalls to override all of their security clearances long enough for you and Roy to get in and get the right files. I can get you going in the right direction, but you're going to have to be quick—"

"You. Are. Not. Going." Oliver grunted out through gritted teeth.

Felicity moved even closer towards him, making the distance between them nearly inappropriate. Roy had never really considered her dangerous or even necessarily graceful, but in that moment, with her blonde hair bouncing behind her and her eyes narrowed on Oliver, she looked like a lioness hunting her prey—and Oliver didn't stand a chance.

"It's not your decision," she stated for all to hear. The next part Roy wasn't sure he was intended to hear, but he still had some lingering side effects of the Mirakuru. She leaned in further to Oliver and added. "Besides, if the decision was yours, you've made it before—you've taken the risk."

Oliver stilled before her, his eyes clenched shut and his jaw trapped so tight Roy was certain his teeth would shatter under the force. Then he simply took a deep breath and met Felicity's gaze.

"Fine," he sighed as if he had been running a marathon. "But you stick with me—Roy can get the files."

Roy watched Oliver walk away and he wondered if he noticed Felicity slouch against the wall behind her—if Oliver noticed the strength that this woman possessed. And most importantly, he wondered if Oliver noticed that it wasn't the criminals who were her weakness, but Oliver himself.

* * *

Oliver had hated this plan from the very moment it had been conceived. He had wanted to push Dig, to threaten him, to force him into calling Lyla—then he had noticed the man's broken expression when he had said her name and Oliver had wondered if that was what he had looked like when he had left Felicity that night in his foyer.

He recognized it as the expression worn by a man who saw what he wanted and was too afraid to take it.

They made their way through the dark tunnels leading into the underbelly of ARGUS. His relationship with Waller had always been shaky. Now it was about to get worse. If she had anything to do with Merlyn, with Thea, with _any_ of it—she would pay.

Men began stopping them but he easily rendered them useless as Roy tucked Felicity against his body, shielding her from anything that could potentially hurt her. Oliver had promised to get her to the servers and stay with her once they made it there, but he couldn't bring himself to touch her, even if it were to protect her.

They stopped outside the door and he used an arrow to spring it free. He gave Roy a nod and Felicity was suddenly in his arms. Her eyes darted to his and then she pulled out her tablet and she got to work. He stood by the door while she worked her magic, inserting whatever devices of destruction she had brought with her.

"Roy," she said into the comms. "Go now!" she shouted over the noise as Oliver took down two more men. He no longer killed but he sometimes wondered what damage these men would wake up with.

"Oliver, what am I looking for?" Roy's voice filled his ear and Oliver tried to think like Amanda Waller. Where would she keep her most important information? Where could Malcolm hide that they hadn't thought to look yet?

"Lian Yu," Oliver said, unease filling his stomach. "Find anything on Lian Yu," Felicity's eyes darted up to meet his and he only nodded.

"We have to get out of here," Felicity muttered. "I can't fight their firewalls much longer," she typed furiously and Oliver simply unplugged her things and threw them back in her bag, tossing it over his shoulder.

"Then let's go," he roared, hearing the sound of approaching footsteps.

"But Roy!" she shouted, panic filling her eyes.

"Got it!" the kid reassured her. "Meet you guys on the outside!"

Oliver gave her one last glance, intended to tell her to stick close, and they made a mad dash for the hall. He took out four more men before a dark haired woman stood in his path, hands raised, a smile on her face.

"I can't believe you guys didn't invite me," she joked. "Come on, this way," she waved them towards a hidden door that led through a dark tunnel, street lights visible in the distance.

"Lyla, Dig didn't want you involved, it was dangerous," Felicity muttered. Oliver rolled his eyes; that was the exact reason he hadn't wanted _her_ involved either, but she hadn't listened.

"I'm pregnant, not disabled," Lyla joked and Oliver stopped short, Felicity running into his back in the dark. He caught her easily before he spoke.

"Pregnant?" he questioned. "Dig never, he never even—"

"Yeah I know, he didn't want to," Lyla explained. "Didn't want you kicking him to the curb so I swear to god—"

"No! No of course not," Oliver reassured her. "I just can't believe he didn't tell me," he marveled.

"He didn't tell anyone," she explained. "Felicity guessed; smart woman here, you better keep her around Queen," Lyla said lightly. Oliver could sense the joke, but he could also hear the threat in her voice. He wondered how much of that was Lyla and how much of that was Dig's influence.

"I'm trying," he sighed, grabbing Felicity's hand and pulling her towards the street lights where Roy waited with the car. He didn't truly breath until Felicity was safely strapped in at his side and they were speeding back to the foundry.

* * *

Felicity watched Oliver, knowing the information that Roy had discovered would slowly eat away at him. She wanted to comfort him, but she could see the thinly disguised rage so she let it rest.

"I don't understand how I didn't see this," Oliver muttered.

"Well, it makes sense," Felicity sighed. When he looked at her, wild eyed, she explained. "Lian Yu is being used as a maximum security prison for ARGUS—the leader of whom doesn't mind using criminals to aide in her fights; what's a better place to build an army?"

"She doesn't want an army," Dig interjected. "She wants her own League—it's why Malcolm is involved. I guarantee they each think they hold a knife to the others' throat," he muttered.

"But what does any of that—ARGUS, Waller, Malcolm, the League—have to do with Thea?" Roy nearly begged the question.

"Malcolm wants her," Oliver stopped his pacing for one brief moment. "He lost Tommy and now he has a chance to have Thea—and she's strong enough to become the person he wanted Tommy to be," Oliver was speaking to Roy, answering his question, but his eyes were on Felicity's his gaze heavy—a plea for help.

"And what's that?" Roy asked, palms raised in frustration, seeking action. Oliver looked at him solemnly and Felicity knew that Roy understood without Oliver's answer, but he said the words nonetheless.

"A killer."

* * *

Thea stood before Malcolm as he withdrew a quiver. It was black and when she looked into his eyes she couldn't help but wonder if it resembled his soul.

"Why is it so important that I learn this," she asked. Her questions no longer held the petulant whine of a teenager, but they annoyed Malcolm anyway.

"Archery takes skill—a trait that our family—your family and mine understands well," Malcolm looked at her and for a moment she was back in Roy's bedroom, holding the bow and quiver, but he wasn't family.

"The Queens didn't shoot," she answered, refusing to look at him. She had distanced herself from the Queens, just as she had distanced herself from the Merlyns and if she was completely honest from the image she had of herself.

"Quite contrary—you're brother was the one who put an arrow through me," Malcolm stated matter-of-factly.

Thea looked at him carefully as she processed. She had learned over the weeks the art of stoicism so while internally her emotions raged and confusion abounded, externally, Malcolm saw nothing but the numbness of a strong façade.

There had only been one other archer in Starling—the Arrow. He had saved her, all of the those months ago, after the Undertaking. He had saved Roy. He had eventually stopped Slade—who had specifically sought out their mother. She had never once stopped to question _why_. Or what exactly had happened to him on that island—an island that could very possibly have been similar to this one.

The Arrow and Oliver Queen were one in the same. She had never felt so blind and as she looked into Malcolm's face she knew he spoke the truth.

She also knew that Oliver would stop at nothing to find her.

Unless she happened to free herself first.

She picked up the compound bow before her, with its slightly red sheen, and readied an arrow. Her fingers brushed over an engraving in the metal in a language she didn't recognize.

"What does it mean?" she asked.

"It's Greek," Malcolm answered. "From Homer's _The Iliad. '_Give me a place to stand and I will move the Earth.'"

* * *

A/N: Oh goodness thanks for all of the reviews/follows/favorites! So much love and I'm so grateful for it! Hope you enjoy this chapter too as the plot thickens!


	6. Chapter 6

Oliver sat on the couch patiently and unmoving, counting the ticks of the clock in his head. He had counted to 472 before he heard the door knob turn and the light filled the room. He waited several more ticks for his eyes to adjust before he cleared his throat, alerting Felicity to his presence.

To Felicity's credit, she jumped at the sound, grabbing for a vase by the door and launching it at him before she could even realize that he was friend, not foe. He caught it easily and sat it on her side table as she gasped in a shaky breath.

"Oliver Queen!" she shouted. "You can't go breaking into people's homes in the middle of the night, even if you happen to know—"

"I didn't break in," he interrupted evenly. "How many times have I reminded you to lock your door?" he asked as he brushed past her, locking the door behind her.

"And I didn't think I _had_ to remind you that just waltzing into my home is off limits!" she shouted.

He stopped to look at her, really look at her, and he saw how tired she was. He shouldn't be interrupting her this late at night, not when she had the opportunity to sleep. She also looked more reserved. Whatever wall she had put up not only kept people—mainly Oliver—out, it kept her light within.

"I needed to see you," he whispered. He had come to talk business. They had their first day back at QC tomorrow and they already had a mile-long list of things to accomplish. He also needed to talk to her about monitoring the island as well as trying to find a way to get to Thea without taking on Amanda Waller, ARGUS, and Malcolm Merlyn. To top it off, someone had been transporting guns into the city and the weapons seemed tied to a prostitution ring that had enough big name people involved it stayed well under wraps.

But none of this is what he really wanted to tell Felicity and it isn't what came out of his mouth.

"I just needed you," he sighed, reiterating that single fact, that, no matter the day they've had or what he had done to deserve her—or in fact, everything he had done to _not_ deserve her—he still needed her.

"Oliver, don't," she looked at him, taking a step away, and that wall that had been hiding his Felicity built an extra layer.

"Felicity, I know what I've done to cause this but I don't know what to do to fix it," he sighed, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration. "But don't do this to yourself because of me. Those walls that you've put up? They keep me out but they also keep you in—your light, your goodness, your—your beauty—everything, everything that makes you, _you,_" he breathed, suddenly wishing he hadn't come but unable to stop the words that rushed from his mouth. "I know what that does to people—I've seen what those walls do to people like you. Your heart is what makes you good, what makes you _strong_, Felicity, and it's like a flower—it takes sunlight and dedication and yeah, a little rain every once in awhile to grow. If you shut everyone out, if you build that wall, it will die, you will _die_ Felicity—and you will take me with you," he murmured, brushing a finger over her shocked face.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to wipe that confusion and sorrow and heartache away, but he had been the one to put it there, so instead of moving closer, he backed away and let himself out, praying to a god he wasn't sure he believed in that his words would get through that wall.

* * *

Felicity paced the floor in front of her apartment door, her fingers brushing the skin of her cheeks where Oliver's fingers had been. Then for one reckless moment she dialed the number on her phone she had told herself she wouldn't call.

"Hello?" he answered. He was awake. Holy shit, he was awake. When Felicity had planned to call Edward Raymond and take him up on the dinner invitation to the Queen gala on Friday night she thought he would be asleep-it's three in the morning! "Felicity?" his voice broke her panic and she answered.

"Oh! Edward, I'm so sorry, I know it's late, or early, rather considering the time, but you sound awake, which is odd, because it's three in the morning and-"

"Felicity," Edward laughed and she immediately cut off her rambling. "I had, business," he said abruptly, whispering something out of ear shot of the phone.

"Of course," Felicity answered. It wasn't like she and Oliver didn't do business at three in the morning. "Um, well I was calling to tell you I was accepting your invitation to the Queen gala on Friday night, you know, for Oliver's CEO appointment," she added on and then shut her eyes, kicking herself for mentioning Oliver.

"Really?" Edward asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Felicity, that is great! I look forward to it! I will pick you up at 7?" he asked. Felicity wanted to say that she would take herself, seeing that she had to be there anyway being Oliver's EA, but she didn't.

"That sounds perfect Edward," she smiled, ignoring all of the warning signals going off in her mind that this was a terrible idea.

* * *

Thea crouched low in the dark, her breathing unnoticeable as chaos overtook the camp. She had never been informed of the camp's purpose, but she knew enough that whoever had wanted to build this army would call in backup as soon as Malcolm alerted that members had revolted.

So she ducked through the shadows until she reached Malcolm's tent, listening intently as he gave orders and tried to shout direction over the mob of assassins who had been gathered on the island. She had learned a new meaning to the phrase "There is no honor among thieves."

The plan had started the day that her opponent, Dusan, had led her into the forest and introduced her to a band of fighters as eager to escape the island as she was. He said he had contacts who could aid in the evacuation and she could tell by the tone of his voice that he didn't wish to discuss it further.

So as Dusan went to meet his allies on the beach to lead them to the camp, she was supposed to get close enough to Malcolm to kill him. She rose from her spot on the ground when a firm hand gripped her risk. A blonde in dark leather and a mask held tight as Thea kicked her legs out from under her, sending them both to the ground.

Thea jumped up, preparing for a fight, but when she turned to face the woman, Sara Lance stood in her place.

"Thea," the woman whispered, hands raised in innocence. "This isn't necessary."

"It is," Thea answered, standing straighter. "Malcolm will not stop until he has me—or he is dead," she said simply. Sara nodded in understanding and withdrew her bow staff.

"Then do not let his blood be on your hands. One more body on mine conscious is nothing—I cannot let you become who I am today," Sara said, sounding like a woman who carried the world.

"No," Thea shook her head, readying an arrow in her bow. "I am exactly what he designed me to be; I am his arrow. He cannot now complain if he too feels the sting."


End file.
